


If You Need Me

by rustic_space_fiddle



Series: The Adventures of Gill and Cradle [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Brotherly Love, Clone Wars, Clones, Coruscant (Star Wars), Coruscant Guard, First Meetings, Friendship, Gill and Cradle, Hurt/Comfort, Jedi, MY SONS, Padawan, Platonic (get away from me if you try to ship my sons), bros, budding friendship, jedi academy, kinda angsty, lonely
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-20
Updated: 2020-06-19
Packaged: 2021-02-28 23:28:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,437
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23235463
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rustic_space_fiddle/pseuds/rustic_space_fiddle
Summary: We may be clones or we may be Jedi, but in the end we’re all just people, and all people need somebody.-The first encounters of Gill Boessta, a lonely Jedi youngling, and Clone Trooper Cradle, a member of the Coruscant Guard stationed at the Jedi Academy.
Relationships: Original Clone Character(s) & Original Jedi Character(s)
Series: The Adventures of Gill and Cradle [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1670602
Comments: 3
Kudos: 44





	1. Oddity

_2120, Galactic Standard Time, 20 BBY_

**CT-3726, better known by his brothers as “Cradle”,** took his helmet from the table and stuffed it over his head, grabbing his standard issue shield and staff on the way out the door. His guard shift at the Jedi Academy began in ten minutes, and like almost every other brother on the Guard, he hated to be late.

Cradle strode purposefully down the halls and up the various sets of stairs of the Academy, his booted heels striking in perfect marching rhythm, in neither a hurry or excess of time. He knew exactly where he was going and how long it would take to get there. He actually counted the number of steps it took him to get from the doorway of his room to his post: 1,639, give or take a few depending on if anyone managed to deter him. It was a fairly useless piece of intel to have, but in a job as mundane as his own, he had to keep himself busy somehow.

As he passed by the dueling rooms, he noticed a small lone figure sitting by one of the windows. Odd, he thought. Jedi Younglings were usually in their rooms by this time, and if not there, definitely not in the dueling rooms. Dueling time, unless private sessions were necessary, was strictly for the daylight hours. What was this youngling doing here.

Quietly, Cradle entered the room, approaching the figure with what he hoped was respectful suspicion. It was a youngling for sure, his arms propped up on his knees and head buried in his arms, but he didn’t seem notice Cradle’s presence. Still odder. Can’t the Jedi smell you coming? Or something like that?

“Hey, kid,” he asked, his voice sounding suddenly loud to even his own ears, and the boy’s head snapped around. “You okay?”

The boy—almost a Mirialan, but with the dark, rodent-like eyes of a Nautolan—seemed a bit older than most of the other younglings. Not so unusual. He stared at Cradle with a look of guilt—he’d been caught. Upon searching Cradle’s masked face, he looked away again.

“Yeah,” he finally said, in a small voice. “I’m okay.”

Cradle didn’t answer. He wasn’t stupid, no matter what they said about clones. He stood there, trying to figure out a way to either help or excuse himself, but couldn’t think of either, so he said nothing.

After a moment, the boy turned to look at him again.

“Don’t you have somewhere to be?”

 _Ah._ “Yes sir,” he replied evenly. “Apologies.” He turned for the door.

“No- I- that’s not what I meant,” the boy spluttered, swinging his legs over the side of the window seat. “You don’t have to _leave_ , I was just asking.”

Cradle stopped and looked back. “Oh. Sorry, sir.”

“Stop- you don’t have to apologize,” the boy said, sounding a little frustrated. “I’m just… I like the company, really.”

 _Ah_. “Would you like me to stay? I can call someone to take my post for a few minutes.”

The boy shook his head quickly, waving his hands. “No, no, no, don’t do that. Just go. Thanks, but it’s okay. Just go, you’ve got guarding stuff, probably.”

Cradle could tell the boy wanted him to stay. He’d seen some other younglings homesick before, too, but they were usually much younger, very much still small children. But he did have a job to do, and didn’t think now was the best time to argue the point. Besides, there had to be someone at the Academy who would look after the boy eventually.

So he nodded his head and made again to leave. “Yes, sir.”

Out the corner of his eye, he saw the boy’s shoulders sag just a fraction and his eyes drop back to his feet. He stopped in the doorway.

“Kid,” he said. The boy looked up. “If you ever need anything. Come find me. CT-3726.”

Cradle couldn’t tell in the dark, but it looked as though the boy almost smiled.

“I will,” the boy nodded. “Thank you.”

“Of course, sir.”

Cradle stepped back out into the hallway and resumed his well-trodden path, walking just a little quicker than he had before. He was just a few minutes behind, but for now, it was worth the trouble.

* * *

_To be continued..._


	2. Confidante

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gill has a nightmare, and he remembers an offer of help he’d been given.

_2245 Galactic Standard Time, 20 BBY_

_**Gill had been back home again, hiding under a table with his parents,** his baby sister hidden in the arms of his mother as something pounded on the door._ _Something huge, menacing, and with every intention of ripping them apart. The droids again. It must’ve been. Every hit that the door took reverberated through the room like an explosion, rattling his lungs and teeth. He wanted to shut his eyes against whatever it was, but he couldn’t look away. Any moment, he knew, the door would shatter, and they would all die. He had to do something. He had to do something. But he couldn’t move; he couldn’t even speak._

_A cry from behind him, and he finally managed to jerk his head around—they were gone. His family had disappeared. Before he could make any sense of the sudden rush of fear building in his head, the door behind him exploded inward, firing slivers of wood and metal into every available surface. Gill’s gaze whipped back around just in time to see an unfathomable figure leap at him through the smoke, its left hand clutching a blue lightsaber as its right shot forward and wrapped its icy fingers around Gill’s neck. Gill, overcome with terror, opened his mouth to scream—_

“GAH!”

Gill flailed awake, pushing himself backward away from some unseen villain, one hand going to his throat as if expecting to find a wound.

It was just a dream. He stared into the dark, his large black eyes wide and unblinking, searching for any sign of the nightmare in the shadows.

He slowly curled up around himself, thankful that it appeared he hadn’t woken anyone else. It was just a dream, Gill. Calm down. He was shaking, and felt cold and clammy, like he was going to hurl at any moment. If he had been at home, he would’ve gone to his parents’ room and laid on the floor or gone outside to the stables to talk to their animals. Here, it felt like there was no one.

Actually, he thought suddenly. There was that clone guard he’d met a couple weeks ago. “If you ever need anything, come find me,” he’d told him.

Without a second though, Gill pushed aside his blanket and dropped to the floor, pulling on his cloak and slipping silently from the room.

* * *

Gill had no idea where the night guards were stationed. He’d seen them around, but he hadn’t exactly memorized their positions. He had no reason to. However, he did know when they switched shifts. If they switched for night shift at 2130, and the guard—what was his number again? 36- no, 3726—walked past his hiding spot in the dueling room at 2125… he was likely stationed to stand somewhere close by. The clones were always where they needed to be, whenever they needed to be.

He went to dueling rooms where he’d been the last time, deciding it would be a good place to start. From there, he went down the hall in the last direction he’d seen the clone go, slinking along the shadows. Finally, he came across a pair of guards standing at a hallway intersection. Gill watched them silently from the darkness, easily able to make out their individual armor designs with his Nautolan night vision. The one at the far side of intersection seemed familiar. The jagged red paint on his helmet—he remembered it now that he saw it. That was the one. CT-37-something. Now to get his attention…

“Hey!” Gill stepped out of the shadows with his hands up. The two clones’ helmets turned with frightening speed, raising their staffs and shields. Gill tried to appear confident.

“Just a Learner here,” he assure, pushing back his hood to reveal his face. The one clone lowered his staff and cocked his head to the side.

“Kid?”

Recognition. “Are you CT-37…?”

“Twenty-six. Thirty-seven twenty-six. Just call me Cradle, would you please?”

“Uh, sure.”

“You know this kid?” the other guard asked his brother, now at ease.

“Sort of.” He turned to Gill. “You alright, sir?”

He’d been so sure of himself, till now. The idea of having someone—anyone—there for him, was all he wanted, but now that the opportunity to be something other than alone had arisen he had no idea what to say. With the other guard there, he felt trapped. He just wanted to talk to someone.

As Gill stood there, mouth slightly ajar, still shaking slightly from the nightmare, Cradle seemed to understand.

“Could you give us a minute, Nav?” he asked the other guard.

Nav shrugged. “Sure pal. I’ll keep the watch.”

“Thanks, brother,” Cradle said. He nodded his head for Gill to follow. “Come on over here, sir.”

They walked a little ways down the hall to a bench, where Cradle took off his helmet and sat down, gesturing for Gill to sit beside him.

“What’s up?” he asked.

And so with a breath, Gill told him about his nightmare. Cradle listened. It felt like a weight off his chest to finally tell somebody. When he’d finished, Cradle leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees.

“How often do you have these?” he asked. No judgement in his voice.

“A lot,” Gill admitted, sheepishly all the same. “Too much.”

“Any nightmares is too much nightmares,”Cradle said matter-of-factly. “I should know.”

“You get nightmares?” Gill asked, eyes widening. “I thought clones didn’t get nightmares!”

Cradle scoffed. “Who told you that?”

“I dunno,” Gill said. “I heard someone say you guys were programmed to not have that kind of problem.”

“Well,” Cradle assured, his expression unreadable. “You were misinformed, kid. We get nightmares same as everyone else. There ain’t no ‘programming’. At least, none that works.”

“Oh.” Gill scratched his head. He felt a little silly. “I, uh, I didn’t know that.”

Cradle seemed to sense his discomfort. “Ah, don’t worry about it. Nobody knows anything about us. Lucky you, getting behind the scenes intel. Now, back to your nightmares. What’s bringing ‘em on, you think? All nightmares come from somewhere.”

“I dunno,” Gill said quietly. “I guess… I guess from home. The droids. And feeling like I—“ He swallowed. He’d never said it out loud. “Like I’m wasting my time here.”

“What do you mean?”

Gill looked at him. Cradle was sitting back now, arms crossed, eyes fixed on him and waiting. So he began. Gill told him about his fears and doubts in his abilities as a Jedi, about how alone he felt, and how he missed and feared for his family. It all came tumbling out in waterfall of thoughts and feelings, all the crap in his head that he’d kept to himself in an attempt to adhere to the training. Many times he felt like he was saying too much, that he was burdening this random clone he’d only met once before with his whole life struggle and that he needed to just shut up, but Cradle never gave any indication of annoyance or exhaustion. He just listened quietly, only nodding when necessary.

Finally, Gill felt the brain drain trickle to a stop, and he found he was shaking again. His being felt lighter, and his head felt clearer than it had for the entire year he’d spent at the Academy. He quieted, feelings of foolishness threatening to creep into his mind. Cradle didn’t say anything for a moment.

“Well, kid,” he began, fingers drumming softly on his knees. “I’m definitely not the best source for advice, but I understand you. I got plenty of times when I don’t think I got the guts for something, and I worry about my brothers all the time.” He sighed. “Honestly, you never get rid of that stuff. You can’t not. I’ve tried, and it doesn’t work. Best advice I got: Don’t let you stop yourself. Even if you think you can’t, do it anyway. Screwing it up, ain’t any worse than not doing it at all.”

“Yeah, but what if screwing it up means…” Gill lowered his voice and whispered, “Falling to the Dark Side?”

Cradle snorted. “I don’t know nothing about that. And to be frank with you, I don’t see how you could screw up that badly. Besides, screw ups can be fixed. Usually.”

“I guess.”

“And as for family… well, I dunno. My family is the army, and we’re always losing someone. I can’t tell you how to not miss ‘em, so just do it and keep kicking anyway. It’s what they’d want and it’s your job.”

“Miss ‘em but kick on,” Gill pondered, the faces of his parents shimmering in his thoughts.

“Exactly. Nothing else to do but that.”

A short silence.

“And as for nightmares,” Cradle said. “I’ll always be here if you need me.”

Gill looked at him, suddenly overwhelmed with gratitude. “I- thanks.”

Cradle smiled. “Here to serve.”

Suddenly reminded of his post, he looked at his clock and swore in surprise. “I didn’t realize it’d been so long. You really know how to pass the time,” he laughed. He stood taking up his helmet. “If you’re alright, sir, I’d better get back to my post.”

“‘Course!” Gill said. “I’m fine, thanks to you.”

“Anything to help. You know, you never did tell me what your name was.”

Gill choked. “What-? Ah heck, I’m sorry. I’m- my name’s Gill. Boessta.”

Cradle stuck out his hand. “Master Boessta, it was good to meet you.”

Gill stood and shook his hand, matching the clones smile with his own. “Ditto. And just call me Gill.”

“Oh don’t worry,” Cradle grinned. “Wasn’t planning on keeping _that_ up. Have a good night, sir.”

“You too.”

“And don’t forget: ever if you need me. I’m always here.”

“I won’t.”

* * *

With that, Cradle returned to his post where Nav was waiting. Gill, meanwhile, made his way softly to his bed, where he crawled between the sheets, his heart lighter than it had been in months, mind clear of frightening images and more tired than he’d realized. As his eyes closed, he breathed a sigh of relief. Finally, a friend. The Force was surely working wonders. With that, he succumbed to the pull of sleep with a small restful smile on his lips.

_**THE END** _

**Author's Note:**

> So, this was the first bit of them! Obviously the youngling is Gill (big surprise there). I’m planning much more for these boys, and if you want to see more of my original concepts of them and other things, go to either my Instagram (@rustic_space_fiddle) or my Tumblr (@rustic-space-fiddle). Thanks for reading! Reviews are always appreciated!


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